Otherworld
by Littica Marek
Summary: There are a great many things I do not understand about my situation, how it started was one that has vexed me since the day I awoke in this cursed place, they say in a month you can get used to anything, I really wish that were true


**Disclaimer**: I do not in any way own anything in this piece of fanfiction elements or characters belonging to the Games, Series or other media I draw them from, this is purely for Fun and to stretch my creative legs

**Authors Note**: I got this idea from a scattering of things over the passed few weeks and it has been eating at me ever since, so im putting my mostly sane creativity to use and pen to paper... so to speak

Please note this is not a professional work, it has not been proof read by a Beta so don't expect perfection, it is me mostly getting the ideas out on Paper before then slip away so without further ado

Prologue: A long month indeed

There are a great many things I do not understand about my situation, how it started was one that has vexed me since the day I awoke in this cursed place.

Hmm let me elaborate some as I am quite sure you must be confused by now, my name is Mathew, Mathew Marek to be exact, im 24 Six feet even and in the past month I have been dead five times.

Yes you heard that right, dead.

From my point of view I simply went to bed after another days work and woke up some time later, cold, lost and in almost constant danger.

Stone walls met my confused eyes, it was like something out of the start of Dark Souls as I found myself in an almost medieval prison or even a dungeon if a somewhat brightly lit dungeon.

Panicking was not something I was all that accustomed to, I try to keep a level head and have managed to succeed unless something really pushes my buttons.

But this was a situation so far out of my comfort zone I found myself on the fringe of panic within moments, my eyes scanning the room so rapidly my head span I clambered to my feet, spinning on the spot, only stopping when the icy cold of the floor penetrated my addled panic brain.

It was enough to give me some semblance of self control, breathing in deeply through my nose wincing at the horrid musky smell of rotted hemp and go knows what else assaulted my senses and I frowned in disgust.

The room I was in was small thing, an odd hybrid between a Bed and Japanese Futon but whatever it actually was, had seen much better days, the floor was stone, rough and unpolished much like the walls and while not what you would call dirty leant a dull lifeless feeling to the room.

The wall was a small porthole, hardly as large as a human head, clambering up to it, I attempted to peer through it, but other than bright white I couldn't make anything else out, the angle was not the best for that task I has to admit.

All in all the 'Room' was neither made for comfort or aesthetics, or even utility, I could more see it used on prisoners as a means to break there Spirit.

And the chill that thought brought had nothing to do with the temperature of the area.

The possibility of Kidnapping was not something I wanted to even consider, but it lingered in the back of my head, how it happened or even when exactly took a bit of a step behind the more prevalent issues, and those were where was I and just how much danger I was currently in.

Taking stock of my 'inventory' if you could even call threadbare rags for clothes and whatever I could find in my 'Cell' as an inventory I started searching the room, pointedly ignoring the rather large and almost certainly locked wooden door.

Twenty minutes later and I found myself pacing the room having found nothing but a small box of large wax candles, no other clothes, no food, nothing I could use as a weapon to even try to fight back at my apparent captors.

There was not even anything I could use for toilet paper, or anything I would use as a toilet plain and simple, it was like they had thrown a cot in a plain, bare storage room and locked me in.

The minutes that passed felt like hours, the tension I felt growing and my eyes being drawn ever more to the large door until what felt like days but must have been a few hours at most I growled a frustrated curse and rapidly approached the door.

The growing anger drained in an instant the second my hand touched the handle, my actions speeding back to me as I froze, the last thing I needed to do was make a lot of noise and the sound I would have made futile pulling on the locked door could have ended quite badly if my 'Kidnappers' were in fact not that far from me.

My hand let go of the handle but didn't move far, im not sure how long I must have stood there hesitating before finally deciding I had nothing to lose by checking, my hand tightening around the handle once again I twisted, fully expecting the handle to halt almost immediately.

The handle twisted smoothly, and despite its size, the door slid easily and noiselessly open.

End


End file.
